


Dragon's Paladin

by ErikaWilliams



Series: Heith Week [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dragons, Galra Empire, Heith Week, High Fantasy AU, M/M, OTP: Toasted Marshmallows, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2018-08-22 09:13:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8280563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErikaWilliams/pseuds/ErikaWilliams
Summary: Paladin Keith is one of the best dragon riders in the Garrison.  But a desperate flight after a Galra scouting party knocks him and Red out of the sky and into a place he never imagined could have existed.  Grounded and desperate to get back to the fight, Keith has trouble adapting to a peaceful life on the ground.  The man who saved him might be just what he needs to teach him that there's more to life than being a soldier.





	1. Chapter 1

He was not in the barracks when he awoke with a killer headache and a dull throbbing in his leg. The thatched roof above his head wasn’t the orphanage he had grown up in, so that was also promising. It meant he wasn’t trapped in a nightmare, nor had he stumbled upon some odd time traveling spell. The last time that happened he had spent the better part of a week trapped in his two year old self until it had worn off and he made it back to when he belonged. He could hear birds outside, but no other sounds of people like snoring or restless stirring. He was alone, which was disconcerting in itself. There had always been people around him, whether at the barracks or the orphanage. Not that those had always paid attention to him, but they had always been there, a quiet hum to the backdrop of his life.

It was the fact that he hadn’t woken up on the ground in the middle of the woods with Red beside him that bothered him the most. The last thing he remember had been being on Red’s back, chasing down a Galra scouting party against the good advice of his superior officers. They had been ambushed, thank everything the rest of them had been too smart to follow him. He and Red had tried to evade, but Red had taken a direct hit. The last vivid memory he had had been of him and Red careening violently towards the ground. So he had not idea how he had gotten into this cottage and underneath a thin blanket on a rather lumpy mattress.

He hadn’t been the only one who had been blasted from the sky. “Red!” he called as he pushed the offending blanket off of him and launched himself off the bed. The dull pain in his left leg turned into a stabbing thrust and he stumbled to the floor, jarring his elbow against the hard dirt. He looked down and pulled his pant leg up to see his leg had been splinted, probably by the owner of this establishment. It had likely been broken in the fall, and he had been too concerned about his location and the whereabouts of Red to notice either. There were bandages on his arms as well, and overall he ached.

“Red!” he called from his curled position on the floor. If he could not get to Red, perhaps Red could come to him. “Red!” His voice was hoarse and raw. How long had he been out of it and where was Red? Far enough to be unable to hear his calls. Or too injured to respond. Or dead. He tried to push the last thought out of his mind. He and Red were connected. He would know if Red were dead. He would be able to feel it.

He looked back towards the bed and found a crutch leaning up against the foot. He should have noticed that before he had gone bounding out of the bed as well. He pulled himself laboriously back onto the bed, and stood again, this time much more slowly and with the aid of the crutch. If Red couldn’t come to him, he was just going to have to go find Red.

The building he was in was very small, and from what he could tell consisted of the bedroom he was in adjacent to a larger all purpose area and what looked like another small bedroom on the other side. To his left looked like what was supposed to be a door to the outside world that was little more than an opening with a hide covering it to keep out, well, absolutely nothing, because he could feel the faint breeze blowing inside. Good thing it was still late summer, because there was no way he would want to try to recuperate there in the dead of winter with the chill coming in. Already he was missing the stone walls of the Garrison that protected him and his fellow soldiers from the elements. And from what he could tell, it looked to be a bright, sunny day out there.

As there was no way Red was inside the hut, he made his way slowly to the ‘door,’ careful not to agitate his injured leg any more than he already had. If he could get close enough to sense Red, he should be able to find his longtime companion with relative ease.

The sun was extraordinarily bright when compared to the dimness of the hut, so he kept his eyes down and shielded as he stepped outside. The pain in his head intensified, but he had to find Red first. A small gray tabby greeted him with a questioning meow as he stopped just outside the door and wrapped itself around his good leg.

“Good kitty,” he said with a grin as the cat purred loudly and nuzzled against his leg. He would have bent down to give it a quick scratch if he thought he could accomplish that without falling over. A large roar behind him did nearly cause him to fall over and sent the cat scurrying into the hut. Lounging on a ledge behind the house was the largest black dragon he had ever seen. It had no saddle, no collar, no bridle, no indication that it belonged to anyone. He had thought wild dragons were nearly extinct, but here was one in front of him, yawning as it dug its claws into the rock’s surface. “Nice dragon,” he said as he slowly back away from it, unsure if it could understand human commands.

He had only taken a few steps backwards before he felt it, an explosion of color on the edge of his consciousness. Red! She was alive and he now had a direction in which to look for her. The black dragon seemed to hold no interest in him and has closed its eyes and lowered its head down. It was past time he and Red got out of this place. The Garrison would be sure to be looking for him by now. They needed him. Shiro needed him. But he could only get back after he had found Red.

He followed the sensation slowly, mindful of his leg and observing what he could of the strange place he had found himself in. Distant cries of dragons reached him through the leafy trees and the quieter sound of birds. Of his benefactor who had taken him in and treated his injuries he saw no sign. Someone lived in that hut, but they were long gone and hadn’t heard his cries for Red earlier or else they surely would have investigated. Through the trunks he could see stone front of large buildings with crumbling facades and vines curling through the windows. No one seemed to be living in them, and he saw little signs of human activity. Surely the cat had not been the one to tend his wounds, although such a thing was not out of the realm of possibility. If he was a shifter, perhaps he could only take human form at night.

His path towards Red took him steadily uphill. He was on a mountain somewhere, probably in the range to the south of the border between Altea and Galra. Somewhere the war hadn’t ravaged if the peaceful sound of the birds were any indications.. The air seemed a bit thinner too, but he kept on his steadfast climb towards Red. Occasionally, he caught glimpses of other dragons, a flash of movement in the sky, a rustle in the forest. None of them bothered him though. He didn’t know if they had not had any interactions with humans or if they were uninterested in his existence. So many dragons could not still exist on their own in a single place.

Towards the summit of the mountain, he stopped outside one of those stone buildings with a gaping maw for an entrance. Red was inside, he just knew it. The bond that connected them was stronger here, pulling him closer. He stepped inside, hesitating when he saw what it held. The inside had been gutted and transformed into a stable of sorts for dragons. He limped past stalls containing Tide Gliders, Night Winds, Thunder Claws, and all other manner of dragons that he hadn’t seen before, let alone had been able to classify. And towards the back with her head hanging out over the stall was his beloved Red. He quickened his pace as much as he could and scratched the dragon under the chin in the special spot she loved. While he had the dragon distracted, he looked over the stall door. The handiwork on the splint on Red’s wing looked to be the same as the splint on his leg. Red also had a series of stitches along her side but a comfortable bed of straw had been provided to her to sleep on. She had certainly not been mistreated. Nor did he sense any ill will from the dragon towards their mysterious benefactors.

Still, with the broken leg and Red’s broken wing, neither one of them was going to be going anywhere for quite a while. In the meantime, the Galra could be doing who knew what with Shiro. It wasn’t like he could rely on Lance to rescue him. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Red’s.

“Hey, shouldn’t you be taking it easy?” a voice asked from behind him and even though he was loathe to pull away from Red, the speaker was probably the benefactor who had saved them. A larger man carrying two heavy buckets of fresh fish approached Red, patted her on the nose and opened the stall door. Keith followed him in, not because he didn’t trust the man with his dragon, but, well, because it was his dragon.

His benefactor placed the buckets of fish down in front of Red and the dragon dove right in. Meanwhile, the man moved around to the side and started inspecting Red’s injuries. “I didn’t think you would be up and about so soon, let alone hike all the way up here.”

“I need to get back to the Garrison,” he said, taking a few careful steps forward. Shiro needed him before it was too late.

“Not happening,” the man said as he fiddled with the splint on Red’s wing. “Your dragon’s not going to be flying for at least two months, and you’re not going to get very far on that leg of yours.”

Two months? Shiro could be dead within a week. The Galra could completely take over Altea before his stupid leg could heal. “What about a horse? Could I borrow a horse?” A horse wasn’t as fast as a dragon, but at least he wouldn’t have to walk.

The man shook his head as he stepped away from Red. “We don’t have any horses. We tried that once. Dragons ate them within a week.”

So he was stuck there until Red’s wing healed unless he was willing to limp directly into the heart of the Galra Empire. He followed the other man out of the stall, closing the door behind him.

“There’s a war going on,” he protested to the man’s back as he limped after him. “The Galra have overthrown several other countries and started calling themselves an Empire.” They already viewed Altea as just one more conquest. “They won’t stop at Altea. They’ll come here eventually.”

The man shrugged. “If they overtake Altea, there doesn’t seem to be much of a reason for us to fight back.”

“Are there any trained dragons here? Let me buy a dragon. The Garrison will pay you double what any dragon is worth.”

“Look, I’ve already saved the life of you and your dragon once. And maybe I don’t want to see my hard work go to waste. I guarantee if you go back to the front line now, you will die.”

He didn’t have an argument against that one. Now that he no longer had the quest to find Red, his headache was coming back with a vengeance. 

“It’s almost time for dinner. Why don’t you go back to the house and rest up until it’s time to eat. Then the three of us can sit down and discuss your concerns.”

The three of them. So there was someone else living in that hut. Rest was starting to sound like a wonderful idea, and his stomach growled, reminding him that he had no idea how long it had been since he had eaten anything.

“That sounds good,” he said far more sullenly than he intended. He was just tired, and under too much stress. He contemplated asking to stay in the stable with Red, but then he would miss out on a guaranteed meal.

“Can you make it back down there by yourself?” the man asked him with concern. “Do you need me to carry you?”

He would be dead and cold in the ground before he admitted to anyone that he needed carried any where. Though that was probably how he had gotten there in the first place, and the thought made him feel like a child at the orphanage again.

“I can make it myself,” he growled, pushing away the thought and the offer as one.

“If you’re sure. I still have some things to do, so I’ll see you in a bit for a meal and a talk.” 

He nodded and set off down the hill, not trusting himself to speak without sounding impatient or ungrateful. When he finally made it back to the hut, his leg was on fire, and he felt like he had been trampled by a herd of minotaurs. The cat was sleeping soundly on the bed when he entered the room. He collapsed onto the bed, intending to just rest for a few minutes. Then he would prepare his case to convince the people who ran this place to help him get back to the Garrison as these people clearly only responded to something akin to reason.

When he opened his eyes, it was definitely much later, and he could hear people talking in low voices in the other room. The cat was curled tightly against his side. A most delicious smell was wafting in through the open door. Some type of meat, for sure, maybe some roots, and some other savory scents he couldn’t quite place. It smelled divine, and his stomach gurgled in happy agreement. He would have walked all the way back to the top of the mountain if it would take him to the source of that smell. He rolled out of the bed, much more mindful of his leg this time and careful not to wake the sleeping cat. Using the crutch, he made his way slowly into the main room.

The man he had seen earlier was sitting on the floor, along with a younger man or maybe woman, it was hard to tell, that he had not seen earlier. They both had steaming bowls of what appeared to be some type of stew in front of them. There was a third empty bowl sitting in front of a large cushion on the ground that he supposed was meant for him.

“I told you his stomach would wake him once I made something,” the man he had met before said as he made his way over towards them. He gave them both a weak smile as he sat down and helped himself to some stew from the pot.

He dug eagerly into his meal. It was much better than anything he had eaten in the barracks, and he quickly finished off one bowl before scooping out some more. No one stopped him, and there seemed to be more than the three of them could eat in a single sitting. He couldn’t recall a time he had ever had food that amazing. They waited until he polished off a third bowl, looking longingly at the little amount that remained in the bottom of the pot before they started asking him questions. Would it be rude for him to take the last serving when he was a guest in their house?

“So what’s a Garrison soldier doing all the way down here?” the smaller one asked. There was something familiar about that one, but the question had pushed even thoughts about food out of his mind as he recalled that last desperate flight.

“I was chasing after a Galra scouting party. They recently took someone important to me, and I thought...” He didn’t know what he had thought. He had seen an opportunity and had gone chasing blindly after it. He had endangered himself, and even worse, he had nearly killed Red in the process. If they had been left out in the woods on their own, they might not have survived. 

“You thought you would follow them back to their base, sneak in, and somehow manage to rescue your friend on your own. Does that sound right?”

He decided not to dignify that with an answer, and instead scooped the remainder of the stew out of the pot. If he was eating something, it would give him an excuse not to answer some of their more personal questions.

“You’re lucky they knocked you down before you got that far. You’re even luckier Balmera saw everything and alerted Hunk. My name’s Pidge, by the way.”

“Balmera?”

“She’s my dragon,” the man from earlier, Hunk, informed him. “You can meet her tomorrow, if you’re feeling up to it.”

Tomorrow only reminded him that he was stuck there for an indefinite amount of time, til either he or Red were healed enough to make it back to the Castle of Lions. “You look familiar,” he said, turning his attention back to Pidge. “Did you ever study at the University in Altea?”

“My brother did. I told them I wanted to attend to study the science of magic. They rejected my application and told me that lack of scientific explanation was what made magic, magic. So I came here to apply my intellect instead.”

“What exactly do you do here?”

“We research and train the dragons,” Pidge said nonchalantly. 

“You train dragons?” he asked with his eyes going wide. One time when they had been on patrol, they had stumbled upon a hatchling dragon. Thinking it’s parents were long gone, they aimed to claim it for the Garrison. The thing had fought them tooth and claw and had left a nasty scar across Shiro’s nose.

“Wait, you didn’t think dragons just hatched from their eggs and waddled up to the first human the saw, did you?” Hunk asked.

“No, but hatchling dragons are-”

“Unpredictable? A great pain in the rear?” Hunk folded his arms across his chest and nodded sagely. “All true. It’s not easy work.”

“But for the most part people leave us alone because of the dragons,” Pidge added. Which meant no one would even swoop in to check out the ruins even if someone would come looking for him here. The black dragon he had seen earlier would ensure that.

“I think I need some more rest,” he said, pushing himself to standing and staggering back towards the room he had been sleeping in earlier.

“Hey, we didn’t even catch your name!” Hunk called after him.

“Keith,” he said back over his shoulder before retiring for the evening.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith meets the dragon responsible for saving his and Red's life.

Pidge and Hunk were both gone by the time he awoke the next day, but a cold breakfast awaited him in the main room. There was a cold bowl of something to eat, something that looked like porridge waiting for him next to the cushion he had sat on the night before. The porridge was rather common fare, almost exactly like what they had served back at the Garrison, but there was fresh cream and honey to top it. Besides the porridge, he also found hunks of dark bread and some type of cheese. The cheese was most curious, because if the dragons ate horses, they probable would have eaten cows as well. Cows probably made easier targets even.

When he nibbled into a corner of the cheese, it was slightly more sour than what he was used to. The texture was also more crumbly, falling apart in his mouth. Still more delicious than anything he had been fed in the Garrison, especially when he put it onto the bread. Before he knew it, everything was gone and he actually licked the bowl clean.

The cat had followed him into the common room, having spent the entire night on the bed with him, and he sat on the cushion and pondered what to do with his day. Training was out of the question. Even if his leg had not been broken, he doubted these dragon researchers had anywhere he could train. And he seemed to have misplaced his weapons some time between being attacked and waking up here. Or they had taken him from him out of concern for his own safety.

Without any other options, he decided to take Hunk up on his offer to meet Balmera. He owed the dragon his life, and it would give him an excuse to check in on Red. Not that he thought the two of them wouldn’t be taking good care of her, she was just something familiar. Focusing on Red would give him something to think about other than how to get back to the front-lines. Hunk had been right about that anyway. He would be useless to anyone in his current condition, and he would probably be killed long before he got back to his companions.

He found a full waterskin waiting for him, and he made his way out into the open air. The black dragon was laying on the outcropping behind the hut again, but this time he was prepared for it. It didn’t make a sound today, didn’t even really acknowledge his existence as he started on the path back towards the stables where he had found Red. He was just a speck in the black dragon’s life, not even worth the effort of acknowledgment. 

The sensations from Red were much stronger today, maybe because he already had a basic idea of where she was. Or maybe because after two good meals and a decent night’s sleep, his head was much clearer. His leg still hurt, along with the various other cuts and bruises he hadn’t taken full account of. For one thing, while he knew basic first aid, he didn’t know where they kept their supplies and was nervous to unwrap his bandages without knowing what was underneath. So for now they were all a mystery to him and he intended to keep it that way for a while.

He could sense Red’s happiness as he stepped into the stables, her joy washing over him like a glow of warmth. At least she didn’t blame him for their current predicament. She placed her long red head over the stall door as he approached, and he put his hand on her nose before she knocked him over in her excitement. 

“It’s good to see you too, girl,” he said as she started crooning at him. There probably wasn’t a better place for her to be exiled at. Hunk and Pidge would treat her with the respect she deserved, and she might not want to go back into battle by the time she was done being pampered.

“Have you seen Hunk?” he asked, sending along a mental image as it was unlikely Hunk had introduced himself by name to the dragon.

Red sent back her own impressions, of a warm, yellow glow like the sun and strong, gentle hands tending to her wounds along with the impression that this was a human she found favorable. He frowned at that last bit, as it had taken him months to get Red to open up to him, and all Hunk did was bring her buckets of fish, and he was her new best friend.

“Have you seen him recently?” he asked before she could praise Hunk’s virtues some more. She looked longingly at the door she had last seen him go through. He gave her one last pat to the edge of the snout before limping through the same door.

The door lead him back outside to the other side of the stables where more dragons were milling about. Only one of them paid him any mind, a small thing about the length of his finger that hovered in front of his nose for a moment, buzzing off before he really had a chance to look at it.

“Hunk!” he finally called because he was sick of seeing nothing but the dragons, and he would have done anything to see a human face. “Hunk!” He didn’t get a response, and he leaned back against a nearby fence post in defeat. A curious baaing sound rose behind him, and he turned around to investigate. The paddock immediately behind him held about twenty or so fluffy white sheep, mostly huddled together. None of the nearby dragons seemed to pay attention to the ready made mutton. He had given Red a leg of lamb once before the cooks got to it. He barely escaped with his fingers as she gobbled it down so fast. The dragons here should have been tripping over each other to get to a meal that couldn’t even run away. That wasn’t what had been the meat in the stew, but his mouth watered at the though of some decent sheep meat.

“Keith?” Hunk called from him and he guiltily spun around trying to hide the fact that he had been daydreaming about slaughtering someone else’s animal for dinner. “What are you doing up here?”

Looking for you, he wanted to say but he couldn’t force himself to admit it. Couldn’t acknowledge the fact that he had been unable to stay one day by himself when he had always considered himself to be better on his own. People had always been there, but he didn’t need them. In fact, he had always preferred them as far away as people could be.

“I thought you couldn’t keep herd animals because of the dragons,” he said gesturing to the pen of sheep behind him.

“The dragons don’t bother the sheep. They don’t like the taste of the wool.”

He supposed that made sense. When he gave that leg to Red, it had already been skinned. The wool must wind unbearably around his teeth.

“But you didn’t come all the way up here to ask about our sheep on that bad leg.”

“I thought I would take you up on your offer to meet Balmera.” He wanted to thank her since if it was not for her, he and Red would probably be dead. Or stranded, injured in the forest, unable to find their way back home without a friendly face anywhere in the area. Close enough to dead at any rate. The least he could do was find her and express his gratitude. She might not be able to understand his words, but his time with the dragons taught him they were all fairly intuitive.

“Sure we can go see her,” Hunk said, placing the bundle he was carrying down outside the sheep pen. Keith looked at it briefly as he walked by, but he was having a hard time keeping up with Hunk. Looked like shears. Most of the dragons seemed to be clustered at the summit, so if he was lucky, he wouldn’t have very far to go. If Balmera had bonded with Hunk, she probably would not want to be far from him. She might even be in the air above them, keeping an eye on him right now. That’s what Red would have been doing.

Hunk stopped in front of dirt that seemed a litter looser than anything else on the mountain. “Balmera, come on out, girl,” Hunk called and the whole ground shifted. The dirt rose up in a pile before sliding off scales the color of desert sand.

“Is that a sand burrower?” he asked as she shook her head, scattering loose dirt around her. She was stout, and rather round for a dragon, and her wings were folded tightly against her sides. She was missing the tusks that would have positively identified her species.

“She is,” Hunk said, reaching out to give the dragon a pat on the shoulder. The Garrison had been looking for a sand burrower for years. They could come up at their enemies from under the ground to wreck havoc on Galra foot soldiers, then disappear back under the ground. If they could be trained. They were extremely rare in that corner of the world, and he had never actually hoped to see one. The Garrison would have paid them the dragon’s weight in gold for it, a hefty sum to be sure.

“Where are her tusks?” he asked, perhaps a bit insensitively. He wasn’t the dragon expert here, and looking closely it looked like she did have tusks once.

“I rescued her from Galra hunters. They had already taken her tusks by the time I got there.” While he was talking, he was patting the dragon reassuringly on the shoulder. “They think they have some sort of value, but they usually end up killing the dragon in the process.”

Keith took a few steps closer to the dragon, lost in her beautiful brown eyes. A sand burrower. A sand burrower might just be able to help him rescue Shiro.

“Balmera, this is Keith.”

He took a step closer to the fence, entranced by those large, intelligent eyes. His whole world narrowed down to him and the dragon. Vaguely, he was aware of Hunk lifting his arm and unwrapping the bandage. Perhaps it was some previously unknown talent of the sand burrowers that kept him so entranced and so distanced from everything else that was going on around him,

“Is this your sword arm?” Hunk asked him from another lifetime. He could envision infinite possibilities playing out, starting from the moment he was born. Could sand burrowers somehow tap into that elusive and uncontrollable time magic?

“Yeah, why?” he heard himself ask from a thousand lifetimes away.

“No reason. How do you feel about maggots?”

“Maggots?!” That brought him back to his real situation, and he looked over at Hunk in alarm. And in the process saw the festering gash in his arm. It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen similar or worse injuries before, he just wasn’t used to seeing them on his body. The worst part was he didn’t even get that injury in battle, it looked like he had gotten that from a tree on the way down.

Hunk took a flask off his waist and took a sip from it. “Drink?” he asked, offering the flask to him. He shook his head, unsure what was in there but certain his stomach would reject it. Hunk shrugged and poured the rest of the contents on the wound. It burned, and he hissed and tried to pull his arm away, but Hunk kept a firm yet gentle hold on his wrist. Once the flask was emptied, Hunk wrapped a clean bandage around his wound, then let his hand fall. It still stung, but he supposed it could be worse. He could have lost the arm and probably would have had he not been found.

“You can’t really bond with her properly from down there,” Hunk told him before he hauled himself onto Balmera’s back. He wanted to protest that he wasn’t there to bond with her, that he didn’t plan on staying long, that he couldn’t even climb up there even if he wanted to. Then again, he reasoned as Hunk leaned down and almost effortlessly pulled him onto the dragon with him, certain people at the Garrison would be a bit jealous if he told him he had bonded with a sand burrower. She was lower to the ground than Red was, but she was also wider, and his bad leg had to stretch out in front of him towards the base of her skull. 

“She can be a bit overwhelming the first couple times you look in her eyes.”

He hadn’t thought it had been overwhelming. It had been quite freeing, to see all the possibilities life had to offer. Maybe it had been too intoxicating. He tentatively placed his hand down on her back. She was warm to the touch, almost too warm, and he started to pull his hand away. But Hunk placed his hand on top of his, pressing it back down onto the dragon. His hand was trapped between the warmth of Hunk’s hand and the warmth of the dragon scales. He wasn’t sure if he was bonding with the dragon or the rider, but it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go. He could get further on the dragon then he could on his own two feet.

“That should be good,” Hunk said, patting his hand briefly before he dismounted from the dragon, taking his warmth with him. 

“I’ve got to get back to my chores.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he asked with his hand still splayed across Balmera’s shoulder. Not that the dragon wasn’t interesting, but he was still stuck on her back. He wasn’t well enough to train again, and he wasn’t sure what else he could do around the place.

“Balmera can give you a tour,” Hunk said before he headed back in the direction of the sheep pen. Balmera turned and waddled off in another direction. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to stay with her for now. It would give his leg a break, and he didn’t have anything better to do with his time.

*~*~*~

He tossed an apple up into the air and caught it. Two hundred. Up again, twirling through the air and back down. Two hundred and one. The apple had been a lucky find and had given him something to do. He had been trying to grab a branch to pull himself of Balmera’s back, but had only succeeded in knocking down the apple on his head. It provided distraction, albeit a boring one, and if necessary, he supposed he could eat it for lunch. Not any time soon, because then he would lose the one source of amusement he had found for the day. The dragons were scarce, still unsure of him even though he was tagging along with one of their own, he hadn’t seen Pidge all day and Hunk had been missing since he had stranded him on Balmera’s back. He should be doing something. He should be training. He should be figuring out a plan to rescue Shiro. He should really compose a letter and find a way to send it to Princess Allura to let her know he was still alive. There had to be a village somewhere nearby that they bought supplies from, and maybe someone could pass the message along for him.

“Hey,” Pidge said from behind him and he sat up as she dropped lightly on Balmera’s back behind him. “Hunk asked me to bring you lunch.” She handed him a small package and squatted down on the dragon behind him.

“Thanks,” he said as he unwrapped the twine from around the large leaf. Inside was more of that bread with some cheese and a couple more pieces of fruit, another apple, and some others he was unfamiliar with. “I was starting to think everyone had forgotten about me,” and that he was going to be stuck on the back of that dragon until he died of boredom.

“Hunk just has a lot of work to catch up on,” Pidge said, leaning forward to scratch Balmera behind the ears. “Besides, you’re in good company here with Balmera.”

“It would be nice to get off her back so she can get about her day.” He had a feeling this was her normal day, wandering about the facility, watching what the other dragons were doing. Maybe when she was done with her rounds, she would burrow back into the ground on the top of the mountain, where they had started from. Then he could finally do something else. Not that he knew what that would be. Maybe he was better just sticking with Balmera, at least that way he would have something to see instead of sitting in the hut going out of his mind, staring at the walls and thinking of everything he couldn’t be doing.

“Why don’t you just slide down her shoulder?” Pidge asked helpfully, like it was only his bad leg that prevented him from leaving.

“I tried that earlier.” Multiple times. He had spent the better part of an hour trying to slide carefully down her shoulder. “She just kept rolling.” And rolling. And rolling until he found himself perched on her back again while she toddled on through the creaking forest. In some parts he swore that the trees made more noise than the dragons. “It’s like she was given instructions to hold me hostage or something.”

Pidge tried to stifle a laugh, but she wasn’t very successful. Perhaps in another situation, it would be funny to imagine someone trying to slide off the rolling dragon, but not when it was him who had been trying to dismount. He had been one of the best dragon riders in the Garrison, there wasn’t a species they offered that he couldn’t ride. Now he was stuck with a bum leg on the back of the most docile dragon he had ever met and he couldn’t even get it to cooperate. There were things he needed to do, places he should have been, not stuck on a stubborn dragon in the middle of some preserve. He was never going to get stronger if they continued to baby him like this.

“I’m sure Hunk just doesn’t want you to hurt yourself anymore,” Pidge said like that was supposed to be reassuring or something. “You were walking around in an awful lot yesterday.” Yes, because he needed to get out of there, he had been stuck in that bed for long enough. Every moment he lingered there was another instance in which they could all loose everything to the Galra. If they were going to lose this war, he wanted to be fighting it until the very last. “He can’t keep an eye on you all the time. He does have work to do you know.”

The sheep. The shears. He had been on his way to sheer the sheep when Hunk had found him and introduced him to Balmera. The injured dragons and those confined to the stables would need fed. He supposed after all this time Balmera had kept him on the grounds, somewhere he would be safe and not in any danger of being attacked. The place was huge and as far as he could tell, Pidge and Hunk were the only two who lived there and would be the only two working. There was a lot of work to do and he knew he had probably kept Hunk from working in an efficient manner on at least two occasions.

He flushed and looked away from Pidge, in case his guilt became plainly written on his face. If someone came and interrupted drills at the Garrison, he would be beyond annoyed. He would get rid of that person as soon as possible so life could go on as usual. He had been so wrapped up in his own problems and how desperately he wanted to be back in action he hadn’t even given a though on how he might be affecting the people who were housing him. They had made no effort to get rid of him and had been doing what they could to make him feel comfortable. Like Pidge seeking him out to bring him lunch when he was sure she had other things to do. Not that he thought Balmera would be very hard to find.

“I have to get back to my research,” Pidge announced as he realized he had polished off the lunch Pidge had brought him. He still had the apple though, if he could bear to eat it and lose the one source of entertainment he had. Or he could actually pay attention to where Balmera was taking him, learn a little about this place that had been kind enough to save his life and offer him food and lodging in the interim. It didn’t seem like he was going to be going any where any time soon. At least not until he and Red were both well enough to travel. Much as he would like to continue on with his original mission and go into the heart of the Galra Empire to save Shiro, he might have to amend that plan. 

“I’m sure Balmera will have you back at the house in time for dinner.”

A serpentine dragon the color of the canopy above them swooped in so low and fast he threw his hands defensively in front of his face. By the time he realized the dragon was gone, Pidge had gone with it. That must have been how she had dropped in behind him the way she had and the dragon had probably been tailing them ever since.

“Looks like its just you and me again, Balmera,” he said, reaching beside him to give the dragon a pat. She made a sound low in her throat that on another animal would have been a purr. “Good girl,” he told her as she continued her leisurely pace. Maybe he should pay more attention to where she was taking him. Get the lay of the land so when they did release him he would be able to find his way out of there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally going to post this tomorrow on the 14th, but I moved it up a day in honor of Hunk's birthday. Happy birthday, Hunk!


	3. Chapter 3

Five days. Five days he had been stuck in this place, waiting for his leg to heal and for Red’s wing to mend. He saw very little of Hunk and Pidge during the course of that time, only at dinner and sometimes he would bump into them as he found his own routine. His weapons still hadn’t turned up, so training was out of the question. He itched to get back into the fight. How was he supposed to rescue Shiro when his arm was going to forget how to hold a sword?

He had convinced them to allow him to send a letter back to the castle. He sat over the parchment for hours, quill in hand as he penned his letter directly to the princess. He didn’t know what he was going to tell her, how much he would be able to reveal. He had no doubt his letter would be scrutinized before it reached its final destination. He started with an apology for not reaching out to her earlier, but he explained to her that he and Red and been incapacitated on an unspecified mission. The best he could do now was assure her that he was safe and he would do his best to return to the castle as soon as possible. He left out that it might be after he attempted to rescue Shiro again. He used one of their wax seals and received Hunk’s assurances that the next time he went on a supply run he would take the letter to the next village and send the note along its way. It was the best he could do for now. He just hoped it would reach Allura before she sent an army out after him or something. They might run into the same problem he had with the Galra party.

Hunk had checked the wound in his arm and determined that he was not going to lose it and the maggots would not be necessary. He wasn’t sure which piece of news brought him more relief. Other than those two events, his days had become rather monotonous. Even though he had been considered an early riser by Garrison standards, by the time he woke up here, the other two were already gone. He would eat breakfast left out for him, sometimes by himself, sometimes with the gray tabby for company. Once that was done, he would grab the packaged lunch left for him, and exit the hut, mindful of the black dragon that never seemed to go far. He meant to ask about it, but he never seemed to find the right time. Or the dragon was doing something that made asking about it impossible.

After sneaking past the black dragon, he made his way to the stables and spent the day with Red. She seemed to be mending well, and her excitement to see him washed over him every time he walked inside the makeshift stable. Her presence was a great comfort to him. When the itch to do something would get too great, her comfort in their surroundings would pierce through the agitation growing inside him and help him settle. She didn’t care if she ever made it back to the frontlines; she was content here. He had always made her hunt for her food. Here the food was brought to her by the man with the warm hands. On the frontlines, she was forced to fight alongside her fellow dragons in a war she had no personal stakes in. Here she could lounge around to her heart’s content with the other dragons and no one ever forced a saddle on any of them. There was no accusations in the tone of her thoughts, she still felt nothing but love for him. It was just an acceptance of how the world worked. Knowing that didn’t stop him from feeling guilty though when she radiated contentment from where she was lounging in the straw. Being with her still beat the alternative of stewing in his own self-pity.

Even if it were an option, he couldn’t just leave the Garrison and take her with him, Shiro was still captured. And whether she realized it or not, the Galra were a threat to all of them, even the dragons. What they had done to Balmera was proof of that. And maybe they did saddle and rein their dragons, but the Galra used whips and kept theirs in chains. He liked to think that he and Red had a partnership, and so did Hunk and Balmera.

At dinner on the fifth night, he decided he needed a change, even if that change wasn’t what he would like to do most. “I’d like to help out,” he announced while the three of them were sharing an evening meal. He probably should have led up to that better since they both turned to him in confusion.

“Help out with what?” Hunk asked. Obviously he was going to be somewhat limited due to his leg, but there still had to be things he could do to help make their lives easier. He wouldn’t be taking over the cooking, that was for sure. What Hunk made was too delicious for him to even think about taking over. He wouldn’t even subject the Galra to his cooking after they had been subsiding on Hunk’s cooking for any length of time.

“Around the facility,” he said gesturing broadly around them. He hadn’t really thought their reaction through. With only the two of them and Hunk so far behind on his chores because of taking care of him and Red, he figured they would jump at the chance to have someone helping them for a change. “The two of you have done so much for me already.” They saved his and Red’s lives, tended to their wounds and kept them both fed. They deserved so much more than a few simple chores done for them.

“What can you do?” Pidge asked.

“I-” he started, but then he had to think about it. What could he do? The only thing he had ever been trained to do was fight. There was nothing else he had ever been asked to do. “I can fight,” he finally said honestly, because he didn’t know if there was anything else.

“Fight what?” Hunk asked him, and he supposed it was a fair question. They were far from the frontlines, the Galra were not interested yet in this place although he was sure they would be if they knew about the dragons who were ripe for the picking. No one else seemed to be interested in the facility either. “The birds? Because they don’t really bother me that much.”

“No, not the birds,” he mumbled.

“Maybe he thinks we need to fight the trees,” Pidge suggested.

“That one nymph in the west orchard has grown pretty testy, but I’d rather try to resolve that peacefully.” He didn’t know if he was up for a fight right now anyway, especially against something that could control the trees.

“Besides, he fights with a sword, not an axe,” Pidge shot back. Where was his sword anyway? They should trust him enough by now. “Some of the pathways are getting a little overgrown...”

“I can cut some of them back for you,” he suggested. It couldn’t be too hard and it would be good exercise to keep his arms in shape.

“Not on that leg you won’t,” Hunk told him and the disappointment must have showed on his face because he quickly added, “After a few days maybe we can try it if Balmera will follow you around.”

“Is there something I can do now?” Well maybe not right now right now, because it was getting late in the evening, but he did want to start first thing in the morning.

“I have some fishing nets that need repaired,” Hunk suggested and he supposed that was something he should be able to handle. “I could show you how to do it and you could sit in the stables with Red while you work.”

“That sounds great.” He could help Hunk get caught up on his chores and he would still be able to spend time with Red.

Hunk made good on his promise, and shortly after Keith arrived for his daily time with Red, Hunk showed up with a large bundle of woven nets that he dropped in front of Red’s stall. It was a rather large pile of rope that he dropped down and he started to wonder what exactly he had gotten himself into.

“Thanks a lot for your help,” Hunk said. “These fishnets really need repaired, and I just haven’t had time to get to them.”

“Anything to help out.” And to keep his hands and mind occupied with something.

Hunk showed him how to search along the nets for any tears and fraying, then how to either repair it with the existing rope or to replace the section altogether with some fresh rope. Once he was sure that Keith knew what he was doing, Hunk left him, citing other more pressing chores that needed done.

Keith sat down on a low stool outside of Red’s stall and picked up the bit of net closest to him. They must have been somewhere close to the ocean because the ropes were encrusted with salt. Which still didn’t give him a very good idea of where they were. He moved his hands methodically along the nets, fixing a tear here, replacing a whole section there. It was tedious work, but Red was a constant pleasant hum at the edge of his consciousness while the rest of his world narrowed down to the nets. Before he knew it, it was time for lunch, but he had not made much of a dent in the pile. Hunk brought him lunch and sat down on a stool on the other side of the aisle.

“Maybe after lunch we should find something else for you to do,” Hunk said as he started in on his lunch. “Those nets might be a little rough on your hands.” They were a little sore and red and the salt was stinging the small scrapes from the rough ropes. “The Tide Gliders could use a good watering if you’re feeling up to it.”

“Water them? Aren’t they dragons?” he asked. Hunk was saying it like they were plants or something.

“Yeah, but they’re water dragons, and the ones that are recovering up here can’t get down to the water. So they get itchy.”

“I think I can handle that.” He had only seen four Tide Gliders in the building and he would still be able to spend time with Red. He had ridden a Tide Glider for a while, before he had bonded with Red. Water dragons weren’t really his thing, so he supposed he should view this as an opportunity to learn more about them. “What do I need to do?”

“I’ll show you where the pumps are after lunch.” They finished eating in a companionable silence while they finished their food. Lunch was the usual standard fare with some bread and cheese and unidentified pieces of fruit. He was starting to slow down with the food now that he was well on his way to recovery. Besides, he knew now he would get a good meal at dinner as well. After they had finished, Hunk led him outside the ruins and showed him the pumps. The mechanism was attached to the outside of the building, and he didn’t see any obvious source of the water.

“How does it work?” he asked. They had wells at the Garrison, but nothing quite this sophisticated. “Where does the water come from?”

“Pidge designed a system that brings the water up from the stream. You can also get hot water if you want to give Red a bath.

“I think I might.” She would like that. But first he would take care of those Tide Gliders since he had promised to help out with the chores. Then he could give Red all the love and attention she deserved. Hunk left him to carry out some more of his chores while he tried to work out the pumps. He got a large bucket of cold water for the first Tide Glider and carried it to its stall. He slipped inside, eying up the long blue dragon who’s wings resembled fins and that had five gills along the sides of its neck. He placed his hand on its shoulder, running his fingers along the rough scales. They did seem awfully dry. 

He sat down on a stool and dipped the rag into the bucket, bringing it up to run the cold water along its scales. The dragon closed its eyes and cooed in contentment. He dipped the rag back in the bucket and repeated the process. The scales that he applied the water to turned vibrant, shimmering in the light. He could feel the jealousy radiating from Red as the Tide Glider he was working on practically purred in contentment. He sent Red a promise that he would take care of her just as soon as he was done with the Tide Gliders. She mumbled her discontent even as the Tide Glider laid down so he could reach its back without standing up from his stool. He wiped the rest of it down, paying close attention to the area surrounding the gills. They seemed especially dry, and the dragon completely relaxed under his touch. His bucket was completely empty by the time he finished with the first one. So he dragged the bucket back out to the pumps to refill it.

He repeated the process with the other three Tide Gliders, all the while Red was getting more impatient, stomping her back feet against the ground. “I’ll be there soon,” he called reassuringly over to her. He moved his stool over to the dragon’s other side. He smiled a little at Red’s disgruntled response. She was just jealous that he was spending time with another dragon and she was making sure her displeasure was known. He felt it radiating from her, along with the thought that the warm man loved her much more than he ever did. He was just putting the last touches on the final Tide Glider when he felt it, a cold that seeped into his marrow and turned his breath to mist. There was only one dragon he knew of that could bring a chill on that fast and that strong, and he had not seen any since he had started staying at the facility. It was a dragon highly prized by the Galra.


End file.
